License To Thrill
by valiDATEme
Summary: After being dumped, Bella has fallen into a pathetic rut and is done looking for love. She certainly isn't looking for a street-racing badboy with a chip the size of Forks on his shoulder. But for some reason, she just can't seem to stay away from Edward.
1. Mourning

"Get a grip, Bella. You have got. To get. A grip."

Alice was right. I was acting insane. Unhinged. Psychotic. I hadn't left my duplex apartment for six days. I hadn't showered, changed my clothes, or groomed myself in any way, shape, or form. I'd lived off of water and Malibu for the first three days, until I noticed that I was getting winded just dragging my ass out of bed to stumble to the bathroom. At that point I had bounced myself off the hallway walls as I staggered to the kitchen and found some stale cereal. Note to self: Malibu does not double as a substitute for milk in a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Not at ALL.

Alice's calls had come at an increasingly rapid pace as the days passed and I had yet to emerge from my own private Self Pity Sanctuary. She had understood when I didn't want to do our usual Friday night dinner-movie-barhop with Rose, considering. If there's one good excuse for bailing on Girly Fun Night, it's a breakup. She'd even offered to skip it herself to come perch her tiny little frame on the edge of my bathtub and listen and look sympathetic while I blathered on about how awful my life was and how could he do this and I'll never feel this way about anyone ever again. But I'd told her I needed to grieve in private.

So I'd spent Friday night poring over every picture I had of the two of us together -- "us" being me and _him_ -- and trying not to let my endless tears fall onto and thus ruin the photos. I signed into Myspace and read and reread every message I had from him in my inbox. They were mostly from the Beginning, the getting-to-know-you phase. Over the weeks they'd come less frequently, and in the last month I didn't have any at all.

"I mean, you had to have seen this coming, Bell. Tell me you saw this coming." Alice was squinting her eyes at me expectantly. When I said nothing and avoided her searching gaze, she gasped audibly. "Bella! Please! When's the last time he took you out? When's the last time you did _anything_ together?" She was practically shouting, flailing her arms wildly through the air.

I opened my mouth to matter of factly inform her that I had seen him just two days ago when I-- "And going to see him at work doesn't count!"

"But we--"

"I don't care if you went home with him when he got off work. That's not a relationship, Bella. That's sex."

I huffed. But I must have looked more hurt than annoyed because next thing I knew Alice had my face in her hands and was shaking me gently. "Oh Bell," There were tears in her huge honey-colored eyes. "You gotta pull yourself together. Breaking up with Mike Newton is not the end of the world."

Hearing his name was like a knife to the heart. I crumpled physically, my head falling into my hands, my body shaking with loud, wet sobs. I felt Alice's dainty hand patting my shoulder awkwardly.

I felt bad. Poor Al had no idea what to say, what to _do_. Because there wasn't anything she could do. This is why I hadn't wanted company. Saturday and Sunday had gone much like Friday night had. Alice had called around noon on Saturday and asked if I wanted to do some therapeutic shopping. For Alice, there were two cure-alls in life: Shopping and parties. Throwing parties, that is. Alice was an event planner extraordinaire.

I had politely declined, and Alice had left it alone, but had called again on Sunday to offer to take me to lunch and an afternoon movie. "It would have to be a comedy, of course," she reasoned. "The more brainless, the better."

"Thanks Al," I had sighed dramatically into the phone, "But I think I need a little more time to deal with this. I just don't feel like getting dressed and acting like a human being. I can't go out in public. I can't even keep it together long enough to walk to my mailbox!" Sad, but true. I had tried it Saturday afternoon, wearing sweatpants with my fluffy blue robe and dark sunglasses. But halfway to the mailbox I had seen a red car parked a few houses down. _Mike's car is red._ Of course, this car looked nothing like Mike's, aside from the red. But that had been enough. My poorly muffled sobs earned a look somewhere between concern and apprehension from my middle-aged neighbor as I passed him heading back to my front door.

"Fine, Bella. But you're going to have to pull it together eventually. Weekends don't last forever. You have work tomorrow." _Oh, shit._ Work. How the hell was I going to work?! I couldn't face _people_. I just couldn't. And concentrate on something other than my private world of hurt? Absolutely not.

So I didn't go. I called in and told them I needed a few days off. A whole week, actually. Family emergency. I had to go see my mom in Jacksonville. Her baseball player boyfriend had been injured and had to have surgery.

The lies came fairly easily. I struggled to keep the tears out of my voice, but in the end they just helped my case. "You sound upset, Isabella," my boss had remarked. "You must be very close with your stepfather." I wanted to bite back that Phil wasn't my step anything, but I didn't have the energy. I'd mumbled some kind of thank-you and got off the phone, promptly bursting into tears, exhausted from keeping them in for so long.

After that I'd crawled into my bed, drank a quarter of a bottle of Malibu, took two sleeping pills, and passed out. I woke up somewhere around noon on Tuesday to my cell phone ringing incessantly. I checked the display: seven missed calls. Three from Alice last night. One from Rose. Three from Alice today. I groaned and rolled back over, falling back asleep.

Around three or four I got up for some cereal (dry this time). I crunched on the stale squares, not really tasting them, plopping my fluffy blue self onto the couch and grabbing the remote control. I pointed it at the tv and started flipping through channels. Oprah was having a house built for an African refugee and her five children. People were crying. I was crying. But I wasn't really paying attention to Oprah. I mashed the Channel Up button. Crap. Infomercials. News. Crap. Lifetime (No way). I turned the tv off. I buried my face in one of the pillows decorating my couch and briefly considered smothering myself to death. About thirty seconds passed before I emerged, gasping for air. I staggered to my feet and snatched the bottle of Malibu off the coffee table. Once in my bedroom, I collapsed face up. I studied the patterns of paint on my ceiling. I noticed a cobweb up in the corner. A paint flake on the wall.

The sudden blaring of "You Shook Me All Night Long" from my cell phone made me jump so high I darn near fell off the bed. Once I had caught my breath, I checked the caller display. Alice. I hit the button to silence the ring. I didn't need to talk to Alice today.

By Thursday I'd turned my phone off. I was tired of feeling guilty for ignoring Alice and Rose's calls. I was grossly disappointed with myself for texting Mike in a drunken stupor the day before. I didn't know if he would respond or not, and wasn't sure which was worse.

It was Friday morning. Alice had knocked quietly on my door for ten minutes before the pounding grew harder and louder. Eventually I had to let her in, lest my neighbors get cranky.

And here we were. I was slumped dejectedly on my sofa, she was sitting on my coffee table, facing me. A large meat lover's pizza was growing cold on my kitchen counter, untouched. A pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream was melting through the brown paper bag it came in. Alice's eyebrows were drawn together as she studied me. I had stopped sobbing and just lay on my side, half sitting.

"I don't--" I hiccupped. "Know what t--" Hiccup. "To d-do. I lo-hic. Love him."

"Bella," Alice sounded kind of menacing, and her eyes were narrowed. "Do you think it's possible that you…that you might have…um…attachment issues?"

"Bah," I grunted. "Yes. Of course. You're right, Alice. I don't really love Mike. This doesn't _actually_ hurt at all." I could hear the acid in my voice, and I knew I was overreacting, but this actually felt good. For once I wasn't on the verge of tears. I was just…_angry_. "No. It has nothing to do with Mike himself. I just like to get myself attached to every man I meet. Then when they dump me, it's the end of the world. But not because I actually _care_ about them. It's just because I'm helplessly _attached._" I spit out the last word bitterly. Alice rolled her eyes and stood up, crossing to the kitchen to stuff the ice cream in my freezer.

"For God's sake, Bell. You know that's not what I meant. I just mean…Well, were you ever really happy with him? Honestly, he's never seemed very interesting. He can't hold a job. He's a bartender for Christ's sake. That doesn't exactly scream 'mature and together.' He's practically an alcoholic -- and you're practically an alcoholic when you're with him -- and I mean, come on, Bella. You said so yourself the sex isn't even very good."

I scowled at her. So the sex wasn't earth shattering. Sex shouldn't be the most important thing in a relationship. Besides, it wasn't like it was _lousy_, per se. And we certainly had enough of it. In fact, it's practically all we did when we were alone together.

I groaned aloud. Maybe Alice had a point about the quality of our relationship. But it wasn't Mike's fault. He worked a lot. And always opposite hours from me. And could I really expect him to want to spend all his time with me on the few nights he didn't work? Of course he would want to see his friends, have boys' nights. And I could understand why he wouldn't want me tagging along. None of his friends brought their girlfriends.

"He's not even that good looking," Alice was saying. I scoffed.

"You are absolutely insane. He's adorable!" I would stand by that point. Mike was just a little taller than me, blond hair, blue eyes--

"He's a boy. A manchild. You know, you should try an actual _man_ for once." I opened my mouth to protest, but Alice had switched tracks. She had an evil glint in her eye. "And need I remind you about Eric?"

I groaned. Eric Yorkie. Gross. "That was a total lapse in judgment, and you know it. I have no idea what I was thinking."

"But that's not the _point_. Do you remember what you did when he broke up with you? Jesus, did you get robbed?" She was poking through my pantry, where there was decidedly little to poke through. "Bella." She had stopped poking and was pointing a peanut-butter covered finger at me. "Don't tell me you don't remember sending him that letter."

I groaned and pulled a pillow over my face. Yes. I had mailed a bare-all letter to Eric after a week of unreturned phone calls. A this-is-how-you-changed-my-life-and-it's-okay-I-forgive-you letter. Ugh. Maybe I did have a bit of an attachment issue. But I'd be damned before I admitted that to Alice. She just loved being right.

"That was different. I was just a kid. I was…stupid. This is…it's just different. I j-just." My voice had grown sullen. "It's different with Mike," I said quietly. "I-I…L-l-love him. And he loved me too…once." My voice broke on the last word, and I was fighting not to start crying again. Alice ignored me and continued inspecting what was left of my bread for mold.

"Eric was two years ago, Bella." She was neatly cutting the moldy bits off of my last two slices of bread. "And you were just as devastated then as you are now."

"Pfft. You don't know what you're talking about. I was upset about it. Of course I was. For like two weeks. And then…I got over it." I shrugged. "Eric was such a loser anyway. I don't know what I saw in him. It's embarrassing, really."

"Oh, and crying on your couch for six days isn't? Not to mention trying to drown yourself in cheap coconut rum. By the way, I think it's completely unacceptable that you even _have_ a week's supply of Malibu hanging out, but no freakin' _food_. And," She stopped slathering peanut butter on the bread and threw a look over her shoulder at me, her nose wrinkled. "Bella, you stink. And you look like hell. If this--" she waved her arms, indicating my sorry state, "isn't embarrassing, I don't know what is."

I sighed. She was right. Of course she was right. She was Alice. "Besides," she was saying, "this can't be apocalyptic. You only dated for…what?"

"Three months," I mumbled.

"Three?! Right. And you haven't seen him outside of a bar or a bedroom for the last month at least, right?" She took a bite of her sandwich and continued talking with her mouth full. "Don't argue with me," she said, putting a hand up, even though I'd made no move to interrupt. "You'll get over this, just like you got over Eric Dorkie, and two years from now you'll laugh at this absurd behavior. Hey," she stopped chewing, her gaze moving from the sandwich in her hand across the kitchen to the pizza still chilling on the counter. "Why did I make this? I bought a huge fucking pizza." She tossed the remains of her sandwich in the trash and lifted the lid on the pizza box. "Cheese is congealed." She wrinkled her nose.

"Microwave." I stood and took a minute to regain my balance. I blinked hard a couple times to clear my vision, and scowled at the bottle of Malibu on the table.

"Where are you going?" Alice demanded, her mouth full of cold pizza.

"You win. I'm taking a shower."

"Oh, thank god. I can smell you from here. And when you're done, you're eating. Hot food. And I'm chucking your little crutch there." She gestured at the Malibu. "It's unbecoming."

I sighed and shook my head, too woozy to argue. I closed the door of the bathroom behind me and began running the water. I undressed slowly. It felt strange not to be covered in thick fluff. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and did a double take. I _did_ look like hell. My eyes were sunken, dark circles under them, my face pale in some places, red and puffy from crying in others. I looked sickly. And drunk. My eyes were bright from the constant sheen of tears and glassy from the constant flow of booze. My hair was matted thickly, and looked almost wet, it was so dirty.

I tore my gaze away from myself and my eyes fell on the toothbrush holder next to the sink. There were two toothbrushes. One purple, one green. I picked up the green one and climbed into the shower, clutching it to me as I shook with pathetic sobs.

**

When I emerged from the shower, I felt decidedly better. I had chucked Mike's toothbrush out of my sight and willed myself to stop crying, for the moment at least. I was clean for the first time in days, and toward the end of the shower I'd turned off some of the heat and let the cool water sober me up a bit. I wrapped myself in a clean towel, picking my robe up between my thumb and forefinger and holding it at arm's length as I carried it into my bedroom and dropped it in my hamper. My gaze settled upon my bed, sheets rumpled and disarrayed, and decided to toss those in the hamper, too. I needed to let some basic hygiene back into my life. Alice was right. This was just absurd.

When I came out of my bedroom I was still sporting the towel. Alice gave me a slow once-over and shook her head. "You can't leave this house looking like that." She shoved a plate of pizza at me. "But it's an improvement."

I stared down at the pizza glumly. "I don't think my stomach is ready for pizza, Al."

"Eat it," she snapped. "We'll hold off on the ice cream 'til later. But I insist that you eat that pizza. Trust me," she grinned, taking a bite of her own slice, "it's amazing."

"Jesus, how much have you eaten?" She giggled and held up four fingers. I couldn't help but smile. For someone as tiny as she was, Alice had the appetite of a small sumo wrestler.

I took a tentative bite and chewed it slowly. After six days of washing down cinnamon covered cardboard squares with syrupy coconut rum, the pizza really did taste amazing.

"See," Alice said pointedly, her mouth full. "Ish delicioush."

I nodded, grimacing a little. "It is. But I don't think I can manage a whole slice." Alice shrugged.

"We'll work on it."

When Alice was satisfied that I'd eaten enough, she grabbed my hands and dragged me into my bedroom. "Now," she said as I plunked down on my bed. She turned to my closet and pulled the sliding doors open. "What to wear, what to wear?"

"Wear where? I mean, what are we doing?"

"It's Friday. Girly Fun Night." Alice flashed a dimpled grin. Sometimes I just wanted to flick her in her cute button nose.

"Alice. You really can't be serious. You expect me to go out like this?!" She eyed me up and down.

"Well. You're in much better shape than you were an hour ago. The liquid diet really hasn't done much for you, but you're not completely hopeless. And it's probably a good idea you stay dry tonight. You've already got so much liquor in your system it's leaking out your pores." As Alice rambled on she was digging through my closet, pulling out various dresses and skirts, eyeing them appraisingly, then tossing them aside.

"Al, geez. You could at least put them back." She waved a hand at me and disappeared inside my closet again. I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what she and Rosalie had in store for me tonight. Suddenly, Alice let out a triumphant shriek and emerged from my closet holding a slinky blue tube dress. She waved it at me, a brilliant grin on her face. "Alice," I eyed the dress warily. "That's yours."

She nodded excitedly. "I know this. I gifted it to you last spring, with the hopes that it would convince you to dress more like a girl. But I've never, ever seen you wear it." Her eyes lit up. "Until tonight!"

I gritted my teeth. So I liked jeans. A lot. I still dressed like a girl. Sometimes. Perhaps my personal style was a little bland, but it's not like I was traipsing around in flannel shirts and hiking boots. I much preferred baseball tees and Converse Chuck Taylor's. But just because I didn't know Kate Spade from Kate Moss, Alice considered me some kind of a fashion pariah. I considered this opinion inaccurate. Besides, "Alice, how does it always seem to slip your mind that not all of us were blessed with your--" I eyed her waistline skeptically. "--lack of…curves? There's no way any dress of yours will ever fit these child bearing hips." I looked down at my lap. I had always been thin, but Alice had the kind of lithe dancer's body that made the Olsen twins look a little on the chubby side.

Alice tossed the dress at me. "It'll fit." She tapped her head at her temple. "I know this."

Alice had a way of _knowing_ a lot of things. It was absolutely fascinating and completely annoying. I rolled my eyes and stood up with the dress. There was no use arguing with her. Once she had made up her mind about something, there was little that could turn Alice off of it.

Dropping my towel to the floor, I stepped into the dress and pulled it up over my chest, twisting around to zip it halfway, and allowing Alice to zip it the rest of the way for me. There was a brief moment when I was sure the dress was going to burst open at the seams, but after only a slight catch, the zipper closed quite smoothly. Alice looked smug. She took me by the shoulders and turned me toward the full length mirror on the back of my bedroom door.

I gawked at myself for a moment. "I look like a hooker." Alice gasped.

"Like hell you do! You look fantastic." I twisted to first one side, then the other. Then I turned around and inspected myself over my shoulder.

"I look…skinny!" My waist had definitely shrunk during my six day hunger strike. "Heh. How 'bout that."

"I _told_ you it would fit." I glared at her. She'd gone back to rummaging around in my closet, but this time she was on all fours. I sat down on the edge of the bed very carefully. I was still waiting for the telling tearing sound the dress would make when it realized I'm not Alice and I have an ass and it does not fit in this dress.

Alice threw something over her shoulder and it landed loudly on the floor in front of me. "Oh, I don't think so, Alice Brandon." The offending object was a shoe. If you could call it that. Why this shoe had flown out of _my_ closet was a mystery that could only involve Alice and her tendency to "gift" me various articles of clothing that she thought would benefit my wardrobe.

"Where the _crap_ is the other one?" She turned to glare at me accusingly. "What did you do with it?"

"I didn't even know those shoes existed until this one flew across my bedroom." I was holding some kind of strappy silver torture device with an open toe and a four inch heel. "But if you think _my_ feet are going in _these _shoes, you're sorely mistaken." What was Alice thinking? It was a well known fact that I struggled to walk without falling in normal shoes.

"You _will_ wear them, and you _will _look hot. If I can find the other one." I had a feeling Alice would find the other one, and would somehow coerce me into wearing them. I looked in the mirror again, turning this way and that. She was right about the dress. It was a little on the slutty side and totally not me, but damn if I didn't look good in it. I held the shoe up and inspected it warily. Nothing good could come from this. Nothing good at all.

**

Alice did indeed find the other shoe. Then she made me change back into normal clothes so we could run to Walmart. I did as she told me without protest, knowing Alice would have her way in the end regardless. "You just have to trust me, Bell," was all she kept saying. And I was trying. Alice was an amazing friend who would do anything to help me out of my slump. She'd always been there to cheer me up in some way or another. It was usually something extravagant and obnoxious, but it always did the trick.

I balked, however, when she led me down an aisle in the store, gave a little wave reminiscent of Barker's Beauties, and told me to take my pick. My jaw dropped visibly as I stared at the wall of boxes before me. "Alice," I breathed. "You can't be serious."

We were in the hair dye aisle. There were boxes and boxes of hair dye, every shade imaginable. She had stopped me in front of the blondes. "Oh yes, Bella. Don't you think it's time for a change?" She fingered a strand of my mousy brown hair with a disgusted look on her face. "Pleeeeease? I _promise_ it'll look great. Once we take some of the length off and add some shape to it--"

I gasped. "No. Way. You are NOT cutting my hair, Alice. Absolutely not." I crossed my arms stubbornly. I had quite an attachment to my hair. Sure, it lacked a certain amount of…style. But it was my HAIR. This was one battle Alice would NOT win.

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, then shrugged. "Hmph. Well, I tried." She grabbed a box off the shelf so quickly I couldn't see which one it was and traipsed past me. I stood there for a moment, then turned to follow her, shaking my head in confusion. It wasn't like Alice to give in that easily.

"You're not gonna fight me?" I asked, catching up to her.

"Nope," she said cheerfully. Too cheerfully. Alice NEVER went down without a fight.

"But…I don't understand." We had reached the front of the store and were stopped in line to check out. She turned to me with a distinctively knowing look in her eyes and winked.

"You might just change your mind." I stared at her dumbly for a moment. Her eyes twinkled annoyingly.

My gaze shifted to the package of dye on the conveyor, and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "What's that for?"

She grinned. "Like I said…You might just change your mind."

Sometimes Alice was creepy like that.

**


	2. The Den

**A/N:** **This is my first attempt at fanfic and I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing. Any thoughts?**

**Sorry it took forever for me to update. I don't exactly have my own internet connection, or a license at the moment (oh, don't ask). So um...I'll try to be less shitty and...enjoy!**

**Oh, and I don't own Twilight or any of its peeps.**

"Shit, guys, I can't believe how many hot bodies are here tonight." Both Alice and I ignored Rosalie's proclamation and continued scanning the crowd. Rosalie was quite the admirer of "hot bodies," but it was a well-known fact that not even the hottest of men -- or women for that matter -- could pique Rosalie's interest without the three Cs: Charisma, Couth, and Cash. And because Rosalie had a short attention span and got bored incredibly quickly, they also had to have the rare ability to give her a run for her money.

The three of us had just arrived at The Den, Port Angeles' brand new night club. Since it was opening weekend, the place was packed with scantily clad women wearing too much bronzer with their loud, obnoxious male counterparts vying for their attentions, as well as the more subtly dressed up girls and quiet-and-mysterious men. Everyone in Port Angeles and all of its surrounding one-horse towns between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five had come to this premiere party, where the bartenders were sure to be generous with the alcohol and even the lowliest of creepers could find some desperate wallflower to go home with.

It wasn't very often that a new night club opened up, at least one worth venturing into. Sure, there were the seedy bars that dared to call themselves "clubs" on the ratty east side of the city, which were constantly being shut down for everything from serving underagers to drug busts to sex trafficking, then reopened under a new name and the premise of "new ownership" a month or so later, but not one of us had ever stepped foot on that side of town. So when Rose had called Alice to tell her that the new club uptown was finally opening its doors, and that practically everyone she knew was planning to attend the grand opening, there was no question about where we would be ending up that night.

As a rule, on a typical Friday night at a club such as this, I would be on the most conservative end of the spectrum, in tight jeans that Alice had insisted I wriggle into and some variation of tasteful black top. Alice would be dressed slightly racier than I, but her flair for fashion and impeccable taste would prevent anything she wore from looking trashy. Rosalie was always the most sexed up of all of us. She had the best body in Forks and she worked it well, but Alice and I both agreed that sometimes her low necklines and high hems put her on the verge of skankiness.

Tonight, however, was no typical Friday night.

Both Alice and Rosalie had demanded I wear the blue dress I had tried on earlier.

"It's essential for you to look your best," Rosalie had reasoned. "I mean, what if you run into him?"

"What?!" I had shrieked. I had not considered that. But it was a fair enough possibility. _Everyone is going to be there tonight_, Rose had said. Everyone included Mike Newton.

What if he was there with another girl? What if he said something to me? What if he didn't? I covered my face with my hands and threw myself backward onto my bed. "I'm not going. No way."

"Now come on, Bella. We'll have none of that." Alice and Rosalie were both peering down at me menacingly through narrowed eyes, hands on hips. I could tell this was going to be a tough fight for me to win. Alice had a way of getting whatever she wanted without even trying, while Rosalie had a way of getting everyone to do her bidding based solely on the fact that she was a raging bitch when she did not get her way.

In the end, they cornered me into going. Rosalie threatened to text Mike and ask him if he was going to be out, because if he was we would need to know where and around what time so we could be sure to avoid any emotional scenes. She snatched my phone from the bed and started to scroll through the list of contacts and I had launched myself at her with all the force I could muster. Whether she was joking or just trying to scare me or downright serious – and I didn't put it past her – none of this was funny to me. Alice had wedged herself between us and I had started to cry and Rosalie had told me to stop being such a baby. I had scowled at her before muttering, "Alice, get me the damned dress."

And here we were. Alice and Rosalie both looked stunning in short dresses and killer heels. I was also wearing a short dress, and it definitely felt like the heels could kill me by the end of the night, but instead of exuding confidence like my friends, I just felt out of place and self conscious. I kept tugging at my hem in a vain attempt to cover more than just my ass, while simultaneously attempting to keep my boobs from popping out the top. Alice kept slapping my hands away. "Stop it, Bella. You look great."

"You look neurotic," Rosalie corrected. "Could you at least _attempt_ to be normal? You've got a decent body and a pretty face, not to mention a _great_ dress," she rolled her eyes dramatically. "God, you're so…Oh. My. God." She was no longer looking at me disgustedly. On the contrary, she was looking quite dazed, and her attention was focused somewhere across the bar.

"Already saw 'em," Alice purred. "And the big one's been checking you out for the last ten minutes."

I craned my neck to see where they were looking. While Alice and Rosalie had been scoping out the place for potential suitors, I had been searching the crowd frantically for Mike's face, not sure whether I would be more disappointed if I saw him or if I didn't. I had decided it was probably better that I not run into him when I was just barely out of my doldrums, but a part of me was still hoping to find his familiar blue eyes gazing at me from across the bar.

"Earth to Bella," Rosalie was waving a hand in front of my face. "Are you coming with, or are you just going to stand here by yourself?"

"Where--" Before I could finish my question, Alice had grabbed me by the hand and was heading off in the direction in which she and Rose had been staring. Rosalie was right behind me, her face arranged in a smoldering sex mask that could only mean one thing: Boys. And not just any boys. These had to be some damned fine men.

Rosalie and Alice were taking catwalk strides across the crowded club. They were like goddesses, and the endless sea of drinkers and dancers parted to let them through. I, on the other hand, was practically jogging, taking two steps for each of their graceful glides and constantly reaching out for Alice's shoulder to keep myself from tripping on my killer heels. As we drew nearer to our destination, I was finally able to follow Alice's gaze to a small booth in a dark corner of the bar area, away from the dance floor and strobing lights.

A big, muscly dark-haired guy in a tight gray t-shirt sat across from a smaller blond in a black, pinstriped button-down and suspenders. I could already tell which guy had caught each of my friends' interest, and was slightly put off by the fact that neither of them seemed to care that I was the odd woman out. I told myself it was because they were used to me having a boyfriend and not being interested in finding a guy at the bar. Not that I was interested now. God, no. I was still in mourning.

It was certainly clear to me why we were scoping out this particular table. And we weren't the only ones. The two men were both incredibly good-looking. Almost _too _good-looking. The first guy was a hulking mass of solid muscle, but without that disgusting body-builder quality. Almost in contrast to his incredibly masculine body, his face was smooth and boyishly charming, even a little impish. The blonde was almost completely opposite. His body was smaller, though visibly muscular, and even sitting down I could tell he was quite a bit shorter than his companion, probably about average in height. His hair was combed back away from his face, and under his bottom lip was a small blond soul patch. His expression was serene and unruffled, and his style was attractively eccentric, as if he could care less what anyone thought of him. He was almost too cool, from his loose suspenders all the way down to his scuffed black motorcycle boots.

I found myself feeling a little jealous of my friends, as it was all-too-obvious that their interest in these particular hot bodies was reciprocated, which I'm sure the other female patrons noticed and did not much appreciate.

The big guy was laughing at something the other guy must have said. We were coming toward their table at an angle, and while the blond was facing us head-on, the bigger one was actually turned in his seat a little, eying Rosalie approvingly. Blondie had his eyes trained steadily on Alice, and rather than laughing obnoxiously like his friend, only a small, almost secretive smile played on his lips. I could already tell he was a match for Alice.

Beefy McMuscles, on the other hand, I was unsure of. For one thing, his laugh _was_ obnoxious. I turned to see how Rosalie was reacting to this. She was a tough one to read. Rosalie was the queen of fake. Her smile could dazzle the Taliban and even her clear blue eyes gave nothing away. But I had known her long enough to know the real story was in her wrinkles. Rosalie _hated_ when I called them that. But there they were: laugh lines, frown lines, worry lines…they'd all be permanent wrinkles eventually.

Now as I searched Rosalie's face, I could see a very slight crease between her eyebrows. That meant she was annoyed. But the way her eyes were scanning that boy up and down told me she was not annoyed enough to abort this mission.

So we continued moving toward them, getting closer and closer. Beef was taking a swig of his beer, having finally stopped undressing Rose with his eyes. Blondie was keeping his gaze locked on Alice over the rim of his frosty mug. I looked back and forth between Alice and Rosalie, wondering if we were going to follow protocol.

See, there was a method to these things. Neither of us could just expect every pretty face we met in a bar to turn out to be Prince Charming, but there were some precautions we could take to ensure we would not end up with total toads. Rosalie, being the pickiest person I had ever known, had schooled us on this very early on in our friendship. It went as follows:

Step One: Find your target. Take your time. Don't settle for average, because unless you're in the _wrong_ bar, you _will_ find above-average, at the very least.

This one was not hard for me. While I had been known to settle for average more often than not, it was always enjoyable to spend an exaggerated amount of time checking out the goods a particular night club had to offer on a given evening. Looking was half the fun.

Step Two: Make eye contact. If he reciprocates, it's game on.

I had never been much good at eye contact. That saying about the eyes being windows to the soul? Yeah, that always kind of struck a chord in me. It was hard not to feel vulnerable when someone was staring into your soul, even when he _was_ just a drunken frat boy.

Step Three: Act interested, but not desperate. Be sexy, but not slutty. Make eyes. Do NOT flip hair, bat eyes, or under ANY circumstances show skin. Begin approach.

The approach was the most important step of all. Nothing was worse when prowling for a quality man than wasting vital time on a pretty package with generic contents. We had to get closer to assess the situation. Any guy could look well put-together from a hundred feet away. Once we were close enough to observe how he handled himself, then we could make the decision to continue the endeavor.

Which brings us to step five: Sealing the deal. This wasn't really a step at all, because _he_ had to do it. Rosalie strictly forbade us from making initial contact. If the guy passed the preliminary tests, it became our job to find a neutral place to hang out until he grew the balls to come over and talk to us. This was my favorite step, because my "playing coy" translated into just being normal. And although it had posed difficult for both Rose and Alice to follow in the past, thus far there had been no grounds for negotiation on this rule.

Which is why I continued to study both Rosalie and Alice's faces for some indication that they planned to stop. It was almost as if they were both in a trance. Even Rosalie's little forehead wrinkle was gone. Instead there was a startling hunger in her eyes, and her usually pursed mouth was pulled into an almost feral sneer.

Beefy McMuscles had turned Rosalie into a huntress.

It was then that I knew that all protocol was out the window. We were in fact going to approach their table. We were going to initiate contact. Rosalie was breaking her own rule. This was unprecedented.

Just then, mere feet away from our target destination, it happened. A short series of infinitesimal moments that would change all of our lives forever. First, Beefer slammed down his MGD bottle and let out a raucous belch. By this point Rosalie had moved in front of me, so I could not see her face, but I didn't need to, because the second thing happened almost immediately. Rosalie grabbed my arm with one hand, Alice's with the other, and suddenly our small huddle was veering sharply to the left in an unceremonious V-turn. I could see that her perfect white skin was flushed and she let out a frustrated grunt. It was when I glanced back at the table to see how Muscles was reacting that the third thing happened. I could now see the table from a different angle, and saw that there was in fact a third person there, next to Beefy. Our gazes locked instantly, his a piercing jade color, and I could not tear my eyes away. I could feel heat flushing my face, but my mouth was numb, and my throat went dry and I couldn't swallow. Everything went silent around me, and all I could see was him. He was the single most beautiful creature I had ever set eyes on, and he was staring at me so intensely I might as well have been naked.

It was with that thought that I remembered what I was wearing -- that I practically _was_ naked, by my standards. The sounds of people laughing and glasses clinking and music blaring came rushing back into my ears all at once. The moment was over. And as if to punctuate that notion, I chose that moment, Wonder Boy's molten gaze still holding me captive, to trip on my four-inch hooker heels and fall flat on my ass.

**A/N: Feel free to let me know how I'm doing ******


	3. First Impressions

**A/N: And so it continues…**

Not my greatest moment. I sat there for what seemed like longer than I should have, completely stunned. What had just happened? _Please_, I thought to myself. _Please tell me I did not just fall on my ass in front of _everyone _in Port Angeles._ I was staring up at my friends, staring down at me. _Please, _please_ tell me I didn't just fall in front of the sexiest man I have ever seen._ I could not bring myself to turn my head, but I rolled my eyes to the side and tried to catch a glimpse of him in my periphery. I could not quite make him out, but I knew he was there, and he had surely seen my humiliating fanny flop. For the briefest of moments, there was complete silence. Then, to my utter mortification, I heard an unmistakably obnoxious guffaw, and suddenly everyone was laughing. I was turning my head to give Beefy McMuscles the most hateful glare I could muster, when I felt two tiny hands wrapping around my wrists.

"Come on, Bell," Alice chided gently as she helped me to my feet. But there was a smile playing on her lips. I covered my face with my hands, not sure whether to laugh or cry. I could feel my face flaming with color as I resisted the urge to run, run and never look back…But things like this had happened to me far too often for me not be at least a little bit desensitized. So instead of running, I gave a nervous laugh and tried to avoid looking around, tried not to notice that _everyone_ within a thirty foot radius was staring at me and laughing. Some were trying not to be rude, I'm sure, covering their mouths with their hands and whispering to each other, _Is she ok? I feel so bad._

I followed Alice and Rosalie to the bar, where the bartender promptly set down a shot in front of me.

"Oh no," Alice said quickly, pushing the shot back away from me and flashing the bartender a knowing smile. "None for her."

"Oh, come on," Rosalie jumped in. "Don't you think she deserves it after that amazing show of coordination?" She picked up the shot glass and handed it back to me with a sardonic smile. I rolled my eyes.

"I thought we agreed that you'd had _enough_ to drink this week, Bella." Sometimes Alice was a little too maternal. I ignored her and took the glass from Rosalie, peering down into it.

"What is this?" I asked the bartender.

"Crown," he grinned. I took a sniff, made a face, shrugged, and downed it. It felt like acid on my throat, and my eyes immediately filled with tears. I coughed and wiped my mouth. I could swear I felt the effects of the alcohol immediately.

"Thanks, I think," I said to the bartender, digging through my purse for my wallet.

He waved his hands, "No, that one's on me," he smiled. He had a nice smile, I noticed. He was fairly attractive, maybe a little young for my taste, but who was I to be picky? I grinned at him flirtatiously and fingered a couple of ones in my wallet. "Bet you needed it," he continued, "after that biff!" He laughed loudly, shaking his head as he moved away. I shoved my wallet back into my purse.

"Ohhkay," I grumbled. I turned to Rosalie and Alice, feeling sheepish. "Now what?" I asked, desperate to direct the attention away from my fall.

"I don't know, but I'm totally turned off right now," Rosalie huffed, rolling her eyes. I suddenly remembered Beefy, Blondie, and Wonder Boy, and ventured a brief glance over to their table in the darkened corner of the bar. The big guy was not there anymore, and the blond one was looking over at us with a strange sort of smile on his face. He nudged the gorgeous one with his elbow, but that did not seem to get much of a reaction.

The one I had mentally dubbed Wonder Boy was staring broodingly into his rocks glass, and in the dim lighting it was hard to make out his features. Everything about him looked _dark. _His hair seemed to be a medium shade of brown, and his eyes were shadowed by his furrowed brow. I wanted to watch him longer, to take in every detail I could, but I was jolted out of my reverie by Rosalie's voice hissing in my ear.

"What. The _hell,_" she muttered. I followed her gaze and repressed a smile. Beefcake was on his way over to our spot at the bar. I exchanged an amused glance with Alice. This ought to be good.

As he approached, people seemed to stop what they were doing to either stare at him or move out of his way. He was a sheer presence in the room, a hulking mass of masculine strength, with a dimpled grin that could charm the pants off of just about any hot-blooded woman. I stole a glance at Rosalie and realized she was watching him with the same slack-jawed hunger she had possessed before his unceremonious belch that had set off the untimely chain of events that had led to my fall. For a moment I thought she would start to drool, but her face suddenly contorted into a mask of contempt. It was unlike Rosalie to be so blatantly disgusted with someone. She was usually much more subtle when she hated someone. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and all that. I could tell this one had definitely gotten under her skin -- and they hadn't even conversed yet.

She leaned over the bar and waved to get the bartender's attention. "Can I get an Appletini, please?" she said haughtily, holding a ten between two fingers.

"No prob," he smiled, but when he turned away I saw his smile turn into a scowl. I could hardly blame him. When Rosalie was in a mood like this, even Alice and I had could barely tolerate her.

"Getting a little hot under the collar, Rose?" Alice taunted. Rosalie snorted in response.

"Over _that?_" She said derisively, jerking her head at the big guy still making his way through the crowd. "Hardly." She avoided looking at either of us and turned back to the bar instead. Alice shot me a knowing look and I choked back a giggle. A moment later a paw-sized hand attached to a big, hairy arm was wedging itself between us to lay some money on the bar. I looked up to see Rosalie's Beefcake plucking the ten from between her fingers and handing it back to her.

"Keep your money, sweetheart," he smiled, flashing straight white teeth and adorable dimples. He had a self-important air, as though he was used to women swooning at his very presence. Boy was he in for a surprise. "This one's on me." I felt Alice clutch my leg under the bar, and I knew she was as anxious as I was to see what Rosalie would say. This one was not hard to predict.

She had regained her composure and the hateful look from a few moments ago was gone. She looked up at him through her thick lashes and smirked condescendingly. "No, thank you," she said politely, and pushed his money aside. Just then a different bartender returned with her drink.

"Appletini?" The girl looked from Rosalie to Alice to me, trying to decide which of us had ordered the drink.

"Thanks," she drawled, sweetly. The bartender smiled back and reached to take the money from her hand.

"No Angie, I got this." The big guy shoved his money at the bartender. The bartender shot a questioning glance at Rosalie, who shook her head violently.

"Absolutely, not. It's my drink, and I'm paying for it." I could tell she was struggling to keep the sweetness in her voice. The corner of her mouth twitched and her chin jutted out stubbornly. I leaned back in my barstool a little, relieved to not be the focus of attention, and amused by this exchange. It was incredible to see Rosalie this affected.

In private, Rosalie could be fun and sometimes even easygoing. But for some reason, the face she wore in public was a smooth, unruffled sheet of ice. One often could not even tell if she was pleased or angry, until she opened her mouth and released a torrent of condescension that could reduce even the most articulate person to feeble mumbling.

I often marveled at the notion that Rosalie and I were even friends. She and Alice at least shared their love for fashion and a discerning nature regarding men, but I could not imagine a woman more unlike myself than Rosalie. However, I was grateful for our friendship for several reasons, the least of which being that I would hate to be on the receiving end of her boundless disdain.

"Oh, come on, Goldilocks," the meathead was saying gruffly, "I'm trying to buy you a fuckin' drink. Just be polite and take it." That about did it. Suddenly, Rosalie was livid. She turned to him, her blue eyes flashing.

"You listen here, you cretin," she spat. "Don't think for one second that I'll sit here like a lady and let you insult _my_ manners. Especially after all I've seen from _you_ so far this evening. Chugging beer like a goon, burping loud enough for the whole bar to hear, then shoving between my friends and me so you can wave money in my face while swearing at me and _demanding _I let you buy me a drink? I don't think so, Mister. Keep your money and buy yourself some lessons in etiquette!" With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving one incredibly dumbfounded Beefcake.

Alice and I looked at each other and shrugged, then burst into giggles. It felt good to laugh, I thought to myself briefly.

"What a bitch," the big guy was saying. The bartender had taken Rosalie's money and walked away shaking her head. Beefy turned to us with an incredulous look on his face.

"Did that just happen?"

"You have to understand Rosalie," Alice said kindly. "She's got…interesting standards."

"She's got a stick up her ass, is what she's got. Jesus. I was just trying to be nice." he was shaking his head in disbelief. Alice, lover of all creatures in need, took pity on him.

"I'm Alice," she said, holding out her hand. He looked down at it for a moment, then back up to her face. "Okay, let's try that again. I'm Alice," she said brightly, though I could tell she was put off by his unwillingness to appease her. "What's your name?"

He hesitated a moment, then awkwardly took her hand. "Name's Emmett. Those are my boys Jasper and Edward." He cocked his head toward the table in the corner, and Alice followed his gaze. I did not follow suit. I was not sure I could handle another round with those piercing green eyes. "Jasper's the one who's had his eye on you all night." Emmett grinned winningly at Alice and wiggled his eyebrows. I couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Well, Emmett," Alice said encouragingly, "I think you should go find out where Rosalie ran off to and bring her back to us. We'll wait for you over with your friends." She winked. Emmett laughed, and I winced. He really did have a rather irritating laugh. But aside from that and his complete lack of tact, there was something good natured and kind of sweet about him, I decided as I watched him bound off toward the ladies room. I shook my head, wondering to myself how he planned to proceed once she retreated inside it.

Alice was tugging my arm. I felt a rising panic as I realized we were actually going over to talk to Emmett's friends. My face flushed with humiliation as I thought about the moment Edward and I had shared. How it had felt like he was staring into my _soul_, and how I had completely wiped out as a result of it. I cursed under my breath and tried not to hyperventilate. _Well_, I thought to myself, _at least I'll have an excuse to look at him up close._

Before Alice could drag me away, I jerked my arm out of her grip and turned back to the bar. I waved frantically at the male bartender, who put up a finger, indicating that he was busy at the moment. Angie was nowhere to be seen. I huffed and took my seat again, digging around in my purse for my wallet.

"Bella," Alice had taken the seat next to me and was looking at me disapprovingly. I stopped digging momentarily and shot her a pointed look.

"I know what you're thinking, Alice. I understand that you're concerned. But I am not, I repeat _not_, going to that table without bringing a drink with me." Alice thought for a moment, then flashed an impish grin.

"Yeah, I saw you looking at him. Edward, was it? _Cute_. Not my type, really…" she was looking over at their table with a thoughtful expression. "Now, Jasper on the other hand…hel-_lo_." I shook my head and laughed. The bartender finally made his way over to us.

"What'll it be?" He looked from Alice to me. We looked at each other. Alice seemed to consider for a moment, then shrugged. I grinned.

"Two shots of Cuervo with OJ chasers and two Bud Lights, please." I handed the bartender my debit card, and he walked away to make the drinks.

"Now Bella, if you think that you're going to get me to stop lecturing you about drinking by buying me drinks," she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at me. Then her nose scrunched up and she made a face, "you're absolutely right." We laughed together as the bartender brought our shots. "Here's to cute boys," Alice toasted. I hesitated. Edward _was_ cute. He was more than cute. He was…breathtaking. But it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered but Mike.

Mike. I winced as I remembered the last week, and missed him suddenly. Here I was, acting like a giddy little girl over a pretty face and piercing eyes, when what I really should be thinking about was how I was going to live on without Mike. I felt my eyes filling with tears, and I blinked them back, shaking myself back to the present. Alice was frowning at me.

"Honestly, Bella, I don't know what to do with you." She swiveled my barstool so that I was facing the corner where Jasper and Edward sat across from each other. Jasper was saying something, assumedly to Edward, but he had his gaze trained on Alice. She was looking back at him as she spoke to me. "Just look at those boys." Edward was stirring his drink with his straw distractedly, his eyes wandering around the room, not stopping on anyone, not really appearing to see anyone either. "Can't you just forget about Mike for like three seconds and at least talk to that gorgeous hunk of manmeat's friend? You know what they say, Bell." She winked at me, and I knew what was coming before she said it, so I said it with her.

"_The best way to get over one guy is to get under another one._" I could not help but laugh. I thought about it for a moment and decided she was right. I touched her shot glass with my own. "To cute boys, I guess," I said resignedly. Together, we tipped back the tequila shots, chasing them with the shots of orange juice the bartender had provided. Then we each grabbed our beers and started off toward the dimly lit booth.

As we approached the table, I realized both boys were watching us. Jasper had a welcoming smile on his face, but Edward just looked bored. As I looked at him my gaze caught with his and I felt that sudden jolt of intensity again. His eyes narrowed a bit, and I wondered if he felt it too. I looked away quickly, sensing that he could see everything that I was feeling with those eyes of his, and unwilling to let him see anymore.

"Hi there," Jasper drawled warmly as we reached the table. His voice was soft and light. In a strange way it both complimented and contradicted his look. Everything about him was eclectic. Like Alice, who insisted on wearing a studded leather wristband with her sleek pink minidress. He stood up and reached out a hand to me, smiling, "'Bout time you girls made it over. I'm Jasper. This is my cousin Edward." I took his hand and smiled back at him.

"I'm Bella." I withdrew my hand quickly and flicked a glance at Edward, expecting him to follow Jasper's lead, or at least smile in acknowledgement. But he just jerked his chin at me slightly and leaned back in the booth. I flushed, feeling inexplicably frustrated. _And Rosalie thought Emmett was rude_, I thought, taking a seat on Jasper's side and sliding to the inside of the booth.

Jasper was holding his hand out to Alice. She introduced herself, and I watched mutely as they shook hands. He held onto hers for longer than necessary, until she smiled shyly and ducked her head. Shy was one thing Alice was not. This night was turning out to be quite the anomaly.

"Sorry about Emmett," Jasper was saying as he tapped Edward's shoulder and motioned for him to scoot in. He took the seat next to him and Alice slid in next to me. "He's a bit crass. I hope he's not bothering your friend."

"Oh, Rosalie can handle her own," Alice smiled. She and Jasper were staring into each other's eyes intensely as they spoke. I wanted to wave my hand between their faces, like they do in movies. It was unnerving the way the two of them could not tear their eyes away from each other. I shifted uncomfortably, and my leg inadvertently grazed Edwards. My eyes flew to his face, but he was glaring at Jasper.

"Yeah," I said suddenly, feebly attempting to join in the conversation. "I'm sure she'll be ok." _Just stop talking, Bella_, I urged myself. Neither Jasper nor Alice appeared to have heard me at all. I looked down at my hands, feeling decidedly lacking. Alice and Jasper had really hit it off. Hell, even Rosalie seemed to have found someone to occupy her interest for the evening, even if he _had_ already revealed that he lacked the first two of her essential C's: _Charisma_ and _Couth_.

I decided to try again with Edward. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to speak, but was struck by his beauty once again. He appeared to be watching the ice melt in his glass, and I found myself wondering what he was thinking. In the light from the single round bulb above us I noticed the flecks of bronze in his brown hair. It hung in disarray around his face and I felt a sudden and powerful urge to run my fingers through it. His face was pale and smooth, save for a light stubble on his jaw and chin. His lips were full and red, and as I watched he sucked in his bottom lip and chewed on it softly. I felt a tingling warmth flood my belly and downward and flushed instantly. Just then his eyes met mine.

I jerked backward involuntarily, but did not look away. I wanted to, but the force of his gaze was almost magnetic. His eyes narrowed for a moment, and I felt certain that he would demand to know why I was staring at him so blatantly. But he suddenly smiled, and I sucked in my breath. His whole face transformed with that smile, into something even more beautiful than the shadowy, brooding perfection.

"Your ass still hurt?" His voice was like velvet, but his words were like sandpaper. I blanched.

"What?" I knew what he was asking. He was referring to my fall, of course. That brilliant display of dexterity. I knew this, but I did not know what to say. He was making fun of me. It felt like a slap in the face.

"That was great," he laughed. I closed my eyes, humiliated.

"I know," I laughed, too, after a moment, trying to shake it off. I was desperate to appear unaffected by my ineptitude, by his presence. "I'm amazing," I joked, and rolled my eyes.

"I bet." His eyes suddenly turned dark, and I felt myself redden. The laughter was gone, and the intensity from earlier had returned in its place. I wanted to look away, but instead I felt my lips part on their own accord as his eyes raked me. A sudden rush of heat flared between my thighs as his lips curled up on one side. I felt goose bumps rise on my arms as our legs touched again under the table. His smile deepened into a smirk. He could sense my distress. And he was _enjoying_ it. It took everything I had not to gasp aloud when his cool fingers grazed my bare knee. I tore my eyes from his perfect mouth to meet his heavy-lidded gaze again, and imagined his fingers walking themselves up my thigh and under the hem of my dress...

"Well, well, well," a now-familiar voice boomed. "I see we've all met." My face flamed as I was jolted back into reality. Emmett had returned, with Rosalie in tow. I felt Edward's fingers slip away from my skin and I looked down at the table guiltily, drawing a shaky breath. I felt suddenly self-conscious, suddenly very aware of how reactive I was to Edward's mere presence.

_Holy fuck_, I thought. Three hours ago I had been sure I would never want to have sex with any man other than Mike Newton as long as I lived, and now here I was letting a complete stranger practically feel me up in public. I felt like I had slipped into some alternate universe. Alice was shy and Rosalie had surprised everyone by returning with Emmett and I was fantasizing about the Green-Eyed Wonder fingering me under the table in the most crowded bar in Port Angeles.

I took a deep swill of my beer. An alternate universe indeed.

**A/N: The few reviews I've gotten give me the warm fuzzies. I guess I pretty much suck at updating though. Eeee.**

**Did I mention Edward's kinda a dick? Ahhh we'll soften him up…maybe…;)**


	4. Pleasantries

**Author's Note: It's been like, a million years. I cut the chapter short to post it, and hopefully will get back into writing soon. Meh. If anyone's still interested…and maybe even if you're not. xD**

**All characters and whatnot belong to SM.**

"Drinks on me, who wants?" I was beginning to notice that Emmett did everything loudly. He was perched on a stool that he had dragged over from the bar and set at the end of our table. Rosalie had slid in next to Alice, and I was squished against the wall on the inside of the booth. There was a tangle of legs underneath the table. I felt one of Alice's four-inch heels nick my shin and realized she had crossed her legs. I saw Edward wince and stifled a smirk.

"Sorry, sorry," Alice smiled apologetically at Jasper, who cocked his head in confusion.

"That was me," Edward piped in with a grimace. There was an awkward silence, and for a moment I thought he was angry, but then he laughed, and Jasper and Alice joined in.

"The fuck? You kids all playing footsies down there?" Emmett's booming voice reminded me of his confrontation with Rosalie, and I shot her a questioning look. Her arms were crossed over her chest stubbornly, her eyes were narrowed, and her chin was high. She was turned away from Emmett in a showy attempt to avoid looking at him, while he sat back on his stool looking rather smug.

"I was just wondering," Jasper spoke up, voicing my thoughts, "How the hell did my charming cousin get you to come back here with him?"

Rosalie shot a scornful glare at Emmett, who snickered and slapped his knee, clearly enjoying himself. She turned back to Jasper and smiled sweetly. "Actually," she purred, "I didn't come back here with…King Kong." She gave an exaggerated eye roll. "But I couldn't very well hang out by myself all night, and my friends are all over here." Her smile turned into a glower as she narrowed her eyes at Alice and I. Alice tittered and shrugged. I grimaced and mouthed to Rosalie, _Not my idea._

"Yo. People. Pay attention. Who's thirsty? I'm buying." We all raised our hands in unison. Everyone except Rosalie, that is, who was pretending not to have heard him.

"Nothing for you, Goldilocks?" Rosalie scowled and Emmett shrugged. He looked around for a minute, then waved his arm at a passing waitress. "Hey Jess, when you get a chance." Rosalie snorted. Emmett stared at her blankly. "Something you wanna say, Goldilocks?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "It's Rosalie," she spat out. "And no, there wasn't really anything I wanted to say." She paused, but I knew she wasn't finished. We all continued to look at her expectantly. "First name basis with two of the ladies who work here, huh?" she said nonchalantly. "First the bartender, now the cocktail waitress. And the place just opened." She smirked. "Got the place all staked out already?"

It was Emmett's turn to scowl. "Watch it, _Goldilocks_," he sneered. Just then, the waitress approached the table.

"What'll it be for everyone?" She smiled broadly at us, pen poised above her notepad, ready to take down our order.

"We'll take another round of drinks, Jess. That'll be an MGD for me, pint of Guinness for Jazz, Captain and Coke for my brother...Sorry, Sweetheart, I didn't get your name?" I realized he was looking at me.

"It's Bella," I smiled. "And this is Alice. I'll have another Bud light." Jess took this down and looked to Alice.

"Same for me."

"And for you, miss?" Rosalie wasn't paying attention. She and Emmett were having some kind of stare-off. She looked incensed, while he wore a lazy smile. The waitress continued to look at her expectantly, until Alice finally gave her a nudge with her elbow.

"Wh—Oh." Rosalie seemed disoriented, as if her mind had been somewhere else. She cleared her throat. "I'm good," she smiled, taking a sip of her Appletini. Rosalie had never been much of a drinker. The waitress read back the order, then flounced off. I noticed another waitress waving to Emmett. He smiled and jerked his chin up arrogantly. He did seem to know a lot of the girls here. I decided not to voice that observation to Rosalie.

"So…let me get this straight," Alice said suddenly. She motioned back and forth between Emmett and Edward. "You two are brothers?"

"Correct," said Emmett.

"And he's your cousin," I jumped in, speaking to Jasper and pointing at Edward.

"Conveniently enough he's Em's cousin, too," Edward said with a mocking smile. His voice was smooth and rich, almost musical. I almost forgot to notice that he was making fun of me again. Almost.

"Naturally," I said glibly. "So what's the family dynamic?" There. I had successfully evaded his immature little shot.

"Well," Edward leaned forward and spoke very slowly, enunciating his words as though he were talking to someone who was hard of hearing or slow to understand. "Emmett and I? We're brothers." One side of his mouth curled. I suddenly noticed that I was studying his mouth a bit too closely. But I could not quite bring myself to look into his eyes. I shifted uncomfortably as he continued. "And Jasper…is…" he paused, and when he spoke again his voice was a dramatic whisper. "Our cousin." He grinned then, a bright, winning smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He sat back against the booth and tossed his head back. I scowled. He was making fun of me. I should have been angry with him because of this. Instead, I was angry with myself because instead of being mad at him for making fun of me, I was marveling at the way his smile changed his whole face, made him look younger, more carefree.

God, he was beautiful.

I studied the table top intensely, hoping someone else would steer the focus of attention away from me. I knew my face had to be furiously scarlet. I felt my jaw jutting out like it did when I was angry or upset, and I felt Alice's elbow nudge me gently. But it was Rosalie who spoke.

"Brilliant explanation, smartass," she said loudly. I inhaled sharply, relieved to be saved once again from my own awkwardness. "What she meant was, whose mom is whose sister or whatever."

I stole a glance upward and saw that Edward was still laughing soundlessly. I silently marveled at how quickly his mood had seemed to change. A few minutes ago he was brooding and somber, and now he was cracking jokes. At my expense. I felt my eyes narrow. Apparently making me look like an ass was just the trick to cheering him up.

The annoyance I was feeling must have shown on my face, because he suddenly stopped laughing and raised his eyebrow at me. The laughter did not leave his eyes, though, which were still trained on my face. They were a muted green, and I noticed flecks of gold in them. I tore my gaze away and focused instead on Jasper, who had begun to explain.

"My parents died when I was really young. I was raised by our grandmother." He said this easily, smiling as though he were talking about the most mundane thing. For a moment no one said anything, then everyone spoke at once.

"I'm so sorry," Alice and I said at the same time.

"How'd they die?" Rosalie asked with polite interest.

"But really, you practically lived with us," Emmett said too loudly.

"It's not, like, a big deal," Jasper shrugged.

Only Edward remained silent. We all stopped talking and looked at each other expectantly, waiting for someone else to continue. Then we all laughed. Jasper was the first to talk this time.

"Like I said, I was really young. My parents were crazy rich. Had their own plane, their own pilot. They were jet-setting to some island in the middle of July, and their plane flew right into a tropical storm." He moved his hand across his chest and downward, mimicking a nosedive, and made a whistling noise. "I was three. Barely remember 'em. Em's right, though. I lived with Gran, but I played at Uncle Carlisle and Aunt Esme's house every day after school, and I stayed with them for most of the summer. These boys are like my brothers." He grinned and threw an arm around Edward's neck, pulling his head in and tousling his hair. Edward pushed off of him, but smiled good-naturedly. Emmett punched Jasper softly in the shoulder. The exchange was typically masculine, but had an underlying sentiment of brotherhood. I realized that these men were more than friends. "Esme was my mom's sister. She and Carlisle treated me like they did their own boys."

"Not true," Edward and Emmett said in unison.

"You _never_ got chewed out like we did!" Emmett bellowed.

Edward nodded his agreement, and his eyes danced. His drastic change in temperament was almost startling. "You were always mom's favorite. She'd sentence us to two weeks of laundry and scrubbing all the toilets in the house, and all you got was, 'Now, Jasper. Try not to get caught up in whatever trouble my boys manage to get themselves into.' Sickening," he added, laughing. As he mimicked his mother, his voice went up in a high falsetto. Emmett slumped on his stool, shaking with laughter.

"Ferreal, man!" he choked out. "Everyone always thought she was this supermom because she never hired a housekeeper and the place was always spotless!"

"No one knew it was you and me doing all the dirty work like Cinder-fucking-rella!" They were all laughing now, and Alice and I laughed with them. I watched Rosalie and saw her mouth twitch and her face soften.

Jasper stifled his laughter and sat up. "Now, to be fair, I was just an innocent bystander in all the harebrained schemes you two came up with."

Emmett snorted. "Bitch, please. You were the brains behind every operation!"

"False." Jasper jerked a thumb at Edward. "This guy right here is the one responsible for every prank we ever pulled."

Edward ducked his head sheepishly, and I stopped laughing. I wanted to run my fingers through that hair that kept falling in his face. Instead, he reached up himself and pushed it back futilely. He shook his head and opened his mouth, but Emmett put up a hand to stop him from speaking. "Don't deny it, brother. Our cousin has a point. He may have effectively worked out the kinks and done all the plotting, but you were the quiet genius responsible for the birth of every idea."

Just then, the waitress arrived with our drinks. "Ah, thanks, Jess. You're a doll." Emmett flashed her a million-watt grin, and I noticed Rosalie's jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. As I turned my face away to hide my smile I felt Alice kick me under the table.

I turned to steal a glance at Rosalie, but my gaze caught instead on someone else. My heart stopped. There, across the crowded nightclub. Leaning his back against the bar, hunched over slightly to hear whatever the pint-sized bitch next to him was murmuring in his ear. Dark blond hair, dancing blue eyes, wide white smile.

_Mike._

**End Note: Oooh, intrigue. Whatever will happen next?!!**


	5. Unpleasantries

**A/N: Characters, etc. Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer.  
I'm trying to get this out little by little lest we have another several month hiatus. Enjoy and respond in kind, bitte.**

I felt suddenly nauseated. The room tilted, and I gripped the edge of the table to keep from sliding off the face of the world. I opened my mouth to breathe, but no air would enter my lungs.

Didn't I secretly want this to happen? Had I not been silently praying to see him not an hour before? But this did not feel right at all. I was not ready for this. _I couldn't breathe_.

"Bell!" Alice spoke my name as a loud staccato. I blinked, trying to focus my vision. My mind was reeling. I could hear voices and sounds around me, see colors and movement, but everything was pretty much a blur. It was like watching the lines on the side of the road while driving eighty miles an hour with all the windows down on a windy day.

My eyes moved around blindly. I wasn't breathing. I couldn't think. Mike's face was swimming in my vision and blocking everything else out. Why had I let Rosalie and Alice talk me into coming out tonight? I couldn't do this. I wasn't ready.

I heard Alice say my name again and felt her hand on my shoulder. I closed my eyes, blinking hard, and opened them again. I stared straight ahead. Green eyes. Soul-deep, gold-rimmed, liquid hot green eyes. I drew a sharp breath. Edward cocked his head to the side as if studying me.

"Hey," he said so softly I might have been imagining it. At that moment I became glaringly aware of the awkward silence settling in on the group of us. For the second time that night I was rocked back into an awareness of my surroundings. I flinched. Edward seemed to flinch a little himself, and he looked almost…wounded? In that instant his eyes closed up again. He cleared his throat and sat up a little. "Your friend alright?" he asked, looking at Alice. One side of his mouth curled in a twisted grin. "That fall get to her head or something? You okay, Klutz?"

He was looking at me again, but it might as well have been a different set of green eyes than the ones I had been looking into moments ago. For a split second I forgot about Mike, forgot about my friends and these men I had just met who were currently staring at me with a mixture of concern and apprehension, and allowed my mind to wander just a little…to wonder what on earth had happened to this flesh-and-blood Adonis before me to make him so skittish about showing any kind of emotion other than mocking and sarcasm. I mean, that's what it was, wasn't it? He would give me these deep searching looks, the first of which had muted every one of my senses and thrust me from reality, and then the latest, which gave those senses some focal point and pulled me back _into _reality, and then a dark curtain would fall and he would change the timbre of the moment completely by _laughing_ at me. And he didn't do it quietly, either. He had to make some kind of joke at my expense.

I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster, then turned to Alice, who was still tugging at my arm.

"I'm fine," I said shakily. I was not fine, but what else could I say? I looked to Rosalie, who had already gotten to her feet and was pulling Alice out of the booth by the crook of her arm.

"We're going now," Rosalie said matter-of-factly. "It was…yeah." She didn't bother to finish that thought, just lifted her chin and turned to leave, without a second glance behind her. Alice pulled me out of the booth with her, but her eyes were locked on Jasper's. Her brow was furrowed apologetically.

"It was really nice meeting you," she finished for Rosalie. Or perhaps more for herself. She sounded a little panicked. Jasper shrugged.

"We'll go with you," he suggested. "I mean, the night's still young, ri—"

"The _fuck_ is going on?" Emmett was even louder when he was confused. Like a wild animal that becomes more feral the more disoriented it gets. Jasper shot him a look that said "tone-it-the-fuck-down" and finished the last of his Guiness.

"I'm not fully aware of the situation at hand, but I suggest we take the girls to the house," he said casually, looking to Alice for approval.

"What?" Rosalie had stopped mid-stride, but she did not turn around. Even over the pulsing music and with her back to us, we could still hear the hiss in her voice. It pissed me off.

"You know what, Rosalie? Not everything is about you. I'm having a bit of a crisis right now, and I know it's not the most mature crisis in the world, but I'm not flipping shit just because the gorgeous hunk who keeps trying to buy me a drink can subsequently burp the alphabet backwards – no offense," I added to Emmett, "—and," I took a breath, then continued, "I'm pretty sure it was you who dragged me down here in the first place, knowing the state I was in and the underlying potential this evening had to turn into a disaster. So," –another breath – "let's just calmly walk the fuck out of this bar and let these nice guys take us somewhere else, before I really lose my shit and start g-getting h-hys…fuck." I was crying.

Jasper, Emmett, and Edward were all staring at me with that horrified look every macho guy gets when a girl starts crying in front of him. You know, the _what-the-fuck-do-I-do-how-the-shit-can-I-make-this-stop _look. Rosalie had whipped around and was staring at me with her mouth hanging open. I am positive she had no idea what to think at that point. People did not speak to Rosalie Hale in that tone of voice, and I did not speak to anyone in that tone of voice. But I had a good buzz going, and a broken heart festering, and I had been laughed at and had fallen on my ass and Mike fucking Newton was sitting right across the room and _Holy shit he sees me._

I resisted the urge to duck under the table, and turned instead to Alice, who was also staring at me like I'd grown a second head. I had miraculously stopped crying. For the moment.

"Do you see him? Is he still looking? Does it look like I've been crying?" There was desperation in my voice that I did not even try to hide.

Alice opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Emmett, who had thrown some ones on the table and put a hand on the small of my back, steering me away from the booth and, conveniently enough, away from the bar. "Look, uhhh…"

"Bella," Edward reminded him quietly. I scowled, but didn't look at him.

"Right. Bella. Sorry. So. I'm flattered that you think I'm a gorgeous hunk. And as a matter of fact I haven't mastered the alphabet backwards, but I'll try not to take offense, because I'm pretty sure Goldilocks had it out for me even before you pointed that out. But I was wondering if you could fill me in a little on what's…" He was walking very close to me, his hand moving to cup my shoulder, his arm across my back, his lips very close to my ear. I was getting very freaked out, until I made eye contact with Alice, who looked pointedly in the direction Mike had been spotted and mouthed, "_he's watching_."

I relaxed some, and even smiled a little. Emmett was just being a good guy, making it look like we were more than merely brief acquaintances, which would either make Mike jealous or at the very least make it look like I wasn't sitting around pining for him. This bit of chivalry made me even more angry at Rosalie for not giving him a chance. Emmett was a nice guy. I silently decided his obnoxious laugh was tolerable, if slightly annoying.

Emmett was still talking. "…and this guy's not gonna try to like, kick my ass or anything, right? Not that I'm afraid he will, just I'm afraid he'll _try_, because as you might be able to tell," he tightened his arm around me, flexing his bicep as he did so, "I work out."

I snorted. Emmett looked offended. "No, it's not that," I began, then giggled. I was starting to feel a little slap-happy. It had been a long day, and my blood was diluted with Malibu and Crown Royal and Jose Cuervo and beer. Mike was here, and he was watching me whispering intimately with some beefy hunk, who in reality wanted Rosalie, who actually, for some strange reason, (I was pretty sure) wanted him back, and for the first time in a week I was really laughing. Emmett stopped walking and just stared at me.

I had been stared at a lot tonight.

"I'm sorry," I rasped, still laughing. "You guys must think I'm crazy."

"Something like that," Edward muttered.

"Look," I said, meeting him squarely in the eye, "you've gotten to laugh at my expense plenty this evening." I giggled again, forgetting my anger. "I can't believe I fell on my ass. _Which_ reminds me…" I leaned down and worked the death-trap-hooker-heels off of my aching feet, then handed them to Alice. "You can have these back." I reached into my purse and pulled out my most comfy pair of Converse.

"Seriously?" Rosalie scoffed. Alice shook her head at me and laughed. Emmett guffawed.

"You bet your bruised little ass I think you're nuts," he jeered, "but I think I like you, Bella." He squeezed me with his monstrous bicep again, then reached down and _tweaked my ass_. My mouth gaped open for a moment, and I wasn't sure whether to be politely creeped out or to slap him. I was surprised when I didn't have to do either.

"Look, Em, why don't you go try to cool Goldilocks down a little? I think Klutz here hurt her feelings." I felt Emmett's hand slide off of me as Edward moved between us. I looked over at Emmett, who was giving Edward a what-the-fuck? look. He caught my eye and shrugged and made a bee-line for Rosalie, who had stalked on ahead of the rest of us.

"Yo! Goldilocks!" he shouted after her.

"Her name is Rosalie, you know," I muttered to Edward, for lack of anything else to say. Alice and Jasper were walking very close together, heads cocked toward each other, speaking in low tones. His hand was at her back, barely touching her, and she was fidgeting with her wrist cuff. It was obvious they were into each other. I looked away, torn between wanting to throw up from the cuteness of it all and wanting to scream out of jealousy.

Edward was looking over his shoulder, back in the direction of the bar. We had almost reached the doors of the club, and I could feel a waft of cool air as we approached. I could hear Rosalie's voice at its haughtiest and Emmett's growling responses. I followed Edward's gaze with my own, but just as I was focusing in on Mike, Edward had grabbed my hand and was pulling me out into the night.

**

"Just where, pray tell, are you taking us?" I asked once the doors had closed behind us. After all, we had just met these guys. They could be gang-rapist-serial-killers for all we knew. I was not about to take any chances.

Emmett had his arms crossed over his chest and was scowling at Rosalie, who had both hands on her hips and one foot tapping. Both of their chins were jutted stubbornly and they were having a serious stare-down competition.

Finally, Emmett turned and broke his stance, frowning briefly at the brick wall of the club before turning a million-watt grin on the rest of us. "Pray to me, ladies, the god that I am, and I just might tell." He winked, then spun off and followed a few paces behind Rosalie, who once again had strutted off in a huff. His eyes were on her swinging hips, and he leered back at Edward and Jasper and wiggled his eyebrows.

Alice and I exchanged a look, then shrugged in tandem and followed the boys.

"What do you think?" I whispered to her as she linked her arm through mine.

"I think," she looked down at my feet, "that I can't believe you stuffed those cruddy old shoes in your purse. And I can't believe I'm stuck carrying these." She held up the hand that wasn't wrapped around my arm, which was holding the silver heels. "And I think Jasper was sent down from heaven to whisk me off into the sunset, and I think once Edward gets that stick out of his ass, he could be a dream come true for you. And…well, I packed mace." She pursed her lips. "Just in case."

I shook my head a little, wondering just what we were getting into. "My shoes are _not_ cruddy," I muttered.

"Ladies," Jasper addressed us, turning around and walking backwards to face us as we followed. He put his hands out, palms up, as if to say, _What can I say to excuse my friends' behavior?_ "Do not be alarmed, but I do believe you're about to be introduced to the wonder that is _Chez Cullen_."

I risked a glance at Alice, who was trying to look noncommittal but whose eyes were begging me to go along with it. I rolled my eyes and inhaled deeply, then gave a begrudging nod. She smiled winningly at me and skipped a little.

I grimaced and braced myself for whatever the night had in store for us next.


	6. To The Car

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight, and all that that entails. **

**A/N: I don't seem to have the attention span to write very often. But what amazes me is that people are still reading, still favoriting, still being pretty awesome. So to those of you who like this story…thanks. Reviews are always appreciated. I mean, really. They motivate me…you know? Okay, on with the story…**

"Just remember, there's safety in numbers," Alice reassured me. I still didn't feel quite right about leaving a bar we had never been to before with three strange men and going to their house with them. At least there were three of us, but looking at Emmett alone had me seriously doubting that we could hold our own against them if they decided to go the gang-rape route.

"Right," I whispered, half to myself. "Safety in numbers. That means the three of us must stay together at all times. No running off with your little Prince Charming." I jerked my head toward Jasper, who was walking ahead of us with Edward and Emmett.

Alice scoffed. "Would I ever? Don't confuse me with a certain blonde friend of ours." She smirked at Rosalie, who had fallen back to walk beside us when she had realized that Emmett was enjoying his view from behind her.

"Oh please." Her face was flushed and she spoke in a low, scary voice. I half expected her head to spin around or for her to start vomiting green ooze. "If you think for _one second_ that I have any intention whatsoever of hooking up with that…that- _jockstrap_, then you are _sorely_ mistaken."

She huffed heavily, then inhaled deeply through her nose and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she smiled, and suddenly the old Rosalie was back. "I understand that occasionally we strong, empowered women are forced to lower our standards for some reason or another. A bad breakup with the need for a quick rebound, for example." She looked at me pointedly and I rolled my eyes. Alice opened her mouth to say something, but Rosalie ignored us both and continued talking. "And - occasionally - we might be forced to let go of one of the three Cs in our quest to find true love - or if we're experiencing a real dry spell." She pursed her lips and nodded matter-of-factly. I exchanged a look with Alice and glanced ahead to the boys, who had seemed to forget that we were following them.

"But," Rosalie proceeded, "there is _no_ circumstance under which any respectable girl should forsake all _three_ of the sacred C's. At least not if she plans on trying to form some kind of lasting relationship with the man in question." She glared briefly at Emmett's back before taking another deep breath. "Besides," She tossed her hair, "without at least some combination of Charisma, Couth, and Cash, can he really call himself a man at all?" She cocked her head and furrowed her eyebrows, looking up into the night sky as if pondering this question. I shook my head and smiled. This was what Alice and I often referred to as "Rosalie Logic." It was about as deep and philosophical as the girl got.

Alice tugged on my arm and looked searchingly in front of us, and I realized the boys were not there anymore. Suddenly Emmett emerged from the alley we were about to pass and spread his arms at his sides, palms out. "Still comi-oof!" Rosalie, lost in whatever world she was in, had walked right into Emmett's outstretched arm. He caught her by the waist before she lost her balance, and pulled her close to his side. "Hi there," he said softly. He was looking down at her through his long baby-lashes, a dimple working on his right cheek. Rosalie appeared to have stopped breathing. Her hand rested on his chest and her pouty red lips had formed an "oh."

Alice and I looked at each other, and I'm sure my expression matched hers - wide eyes, gaping jaw. She grabbed my hand and started to pull me down the alley, then suddenly screamed bloody murder.

"Oh my god, Alice, what is it?" I was screaming now, too, because she was screaming and it scared me. Rosalie was clutching at Emmett and half-hiding behind him, and Emmett was stepping in front of her, his chest puffed out like the Hulk. Alice and I must have stopped screaming in order to breathe at the same time, and that was when I heard…laughing?

I peered into the alley to see what the fuss was about, and sure enough, Edward and Jasper were on the ground, laughing their asses off.

"What is _wrong_ with you, woman?" Emmett boomed from behind us, his shoulders and chest sagging in relief. Alice's eyes were wide as she looked back and forth between Emmett, me, and the guys on the ground. Suddenly she emitted some kind of Alice-growl and lunged at Jasper, who was getting to his feet. She punched his shoulder with her tiny fist and stomped her foot.

"What is wrong with _you? _Why did you scare us like that?" She practically had to tilt her head back all the way to look up at Jasper when she was standing so close to him, and I laughed a little.

"Shucks, Alice," Jasper said somberly. "I wasn't trying to scare you. I guess you're just damn easy to scare." His serious face broke into a wide smile and he pulled her to him and gave the back of her hair a little tug. "Forgive me?"

I swear I saw Alice swoon on the spot. "I suppose," she practically whispered, and I had to look away. I felt like a voyeur. My glance immediately fell on Edward, who was still holding his stomach and catching his breath. When his gaze caught mine he straightened noticeably. The corner of his mouth twitched a little, like he _wanted _to smile, but he didn't. The look he was giving me was quizzical and made me squirm, but once again I found that I couldn't tear my eyes away. So instead I just focused on all the thoughts running through my head.

I didn't understand why he was so hot and cold. I didn't understand why he was so mean to me. I was a nice person. I didn't have extra fingers or a third eye or anything weird and unapproachable like that. I wasn't ugly. I didn't have any tattoos on my forehead that said, "Don't fucking talk to me," or "Please, treat me like a freak," or anything like that. I was also thinking that I couldn't believe Rosalie was being so weird about Emmett. I guess I could understand her confusion, though. He did go against every law she had laid down for herself (and for us) since high school. And thinking about Rose and Emmett made me think about Alice and Jasper, which made me feel a little queasy, because it was kitten/baby/Bambi cute and I was evil-stepsister/Ursula jealous. And then I realized I was still looking at Edward and he was looking at me like I _had_ grown a third eye or something, and suddenly I wanted to cry.

"Are you gonna throw up?" he kind of croaked at me. Four other pairs of eyes swiveled my way, and I wasn't entirely sure I wasn't going to throw up all of the sudden. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

This night sucked.

"Where the fuck did we park? Fucking Seattle?" Emmett's volume was at a seven on the ten-scale, swiftly approaching an eight. I was beginning to learn his Big Voice triggers. Frustration was definitely at the top of the list.

"Relax, big guy," Jasper reassured him, "we're almost there."

Edward was playing mute again, and as long as he didn't look at me, I was fine with that. His eyes did something weird to me, and I did not like it one bit. If he could just keep them to himself, we would get along fine.

Rosalie stopped suddenly and grabbed my arm, jerking me to a stop beside her. The boys and Alice kept walking ahead of us.

"What is it, Rose?" My defeated tone took me slightly aback. "I mean, why'd you stop?" There. That sounded almost normal.

"_Because_," she hissed, looking at the group walking away from us instead of at me as she whispered, "they're taking us to their _car_."

I clapped a hand to my mouth in mock distress. "Oh no!" I rolled my eyes. "Rosalie, we're going to their _house_. How else are we supposed to get there? Walk? Take the bus? It's not like either of us drove here." Though Alice and I still lived in Forks - I in my duplex and Alice kind of all over the place, with various girl friends, boyfriends, guy friends, gay friends, and occasionally me - Rosalie had a high-rise apartment in one of the nicest buildings in Port Angeles. It wasn't a huge city, but it was as city as Rosalie wanted to get for now. She had big dreams of relocating to New York one day, and she could do it easily. Her father had more money than God, and she was an only child, so she saw plenty of that money. But something neither Alice nor I could understand kept Rosalie from fulfilling her dream. We all knew she'd fit in swimmingly in the Big Apple, but I guess she just wasn't ready.

In the mean time, we often crashed at Rosalie's on our nights out and took a taxi to the clubs.

"Bella!" Rosalie snapped. "I just don't _think_ it's a good idea. "They could take us _anywhere_."

I sighed. Alice really wanted to hang out with Jasper. Rosalie secretly wanted to hang out with Emmett, but could not get past his Neanderthalesque tendencies. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I wanted to get away from Edward's scary eyes. I wanted to rub up on Edward. I wanted to ask him what the fuck his problem was. I wanted to feel his stubble on the skin of my thighs.

"Fuck, Rosalie! Talk to Alice. I don't know." I didn't know. Tonight was just very surreal. I didn't even know where we were anymore.

I looked ahead to where the rest of the group had stopped, in a parking lot about a block ahead. They were standing between a beat up Jeep Wrangler and a very beat up Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera. I groaned inwardly, knowing it didn't matter which car belonged to them. This was probably the deal-breaker as far as Rosalie was concerned.

I heard Emmett shout something at us, but I couldn't really hear what it was. Probably just asking what the fuck we were doing. Alice was leaning against the Olds, talking to Jasper, who did not appear to be standing so close that he was touching her, but not much further, either. Edward was looking the only way I had really seen him look for any length of time as long as I had known him - sullen and broody. He was sitting on the hood of the Cutlass, his forearms across his knees, staring at the side of a building or something.

I felt myself sneering. Who was this guy anyway? What was his fucking problem? How could two people as easygoing as Jasper and Emmett be friends with him, related or not?

Rosalie nudged me. "I can't, Bella. I can_not_ go somewhere with that _goon_ and his honchos or whatever in either one of those…_rides_. I. Can't. It's against my religion."

I snorted. Apparently Rosalie had gotten nothing from my little outburst earlier. She was still self-absorbed, me-first Rosalie. I hadn't really expected anything otherwise.

I began walking toward Alice and the guys, and heard Rosalie coming behind me. "Bel_luh_. They've been _drinking_."

I stopped short. Rosalie had a point. I sighed and continued walking. As I got closer to the group, I tried to assess the level of intoxication of the guys. Given that I was feeling rather tipsy myself, paired with the fact that I did not know any of these guys well enough to know what their mannerisms were sober, let alone drunk, made me give up after only a few seconds of scrutiny.

"Alice, can we pow wow for a sec?" Alice looked at me like I had just told her that her puppy had died.

"Ohhh. I know that tone." She let her lower lip tremble a little and her eyes got all big and syrupy as she came over to where I stood with Rosalie. "That's Bella's 'I'm about to ruin all your fun' look."

I pursed my lips. I hated when she did this. She acted like I was always making her life less fun or something. It's not that I didn't like fun. I was just more…reserved…than she and Rosalie. I blew a wisp of hair out of my face and gestured toward Rosalie.

"We just don't know about these guys. They seem nice, but…we don't _know_ them, Al, and they've been drinking, and we've been drinking, and…"

"What if they get us in an accident and we die?" Rosalie finished for me. "Or-" she continued, "What if they get us in an accident and _I_ die, and Bella gets like maimed or something. How would that make you feel?" She gave Alice her "mom" look.

Alice looked like she might cry. But Rosalie's point had definitely hit home. Alice looked over to the boys longingly. Suddenly, her face lit up and she smiled like a kid at Christmas. "Got it! Rosalie. You've had one drink. You can drive! Great idea. I'll go tell Jasper!" And before either of us could so much as blink, she was off.

I looked at Rosalie. Rosalie looked from me, to the Cutlass. She took a few steps backward, shaking her head, a look of horror on her face. "Nonono…I'm not driving _that_! I don't even want to go near it! Just looking at it makes me feel the need to shower. Ugh, no. No. Way."

Fifteen minutes later we were speeding down the city streets, heading toward Forks. Apparently, _Chez Cullen_ was on the outskirts of our very own home town, practically in the middle of nowhere, not far from the Quilute Reservation.

Rosalie was driving. Emmett was in the passenger seat (grinning), Alice was sitting between Jasper and Edward in the backseat, and guess who got to be quished up front between Emmett and Rosalie? That's right. Yours truly.

It would have been fine had Rosalie not felt it necessary to take every turn on two wheels. But she was determined to spend as little time as possible in the Cutlass. I would have preferred to ride in Emmett's Jeep, but alas, there definitely wasn't room for all six of us in that, and I'm fairly certain Rosalie couldn't drive it. Jasper was being a really good sport about Rosalie abusing his Cutlass, but considering the condition the car was in to begin with, I guess he couldn't be too overprotective of it.

And so we were. I glanced into the rearview mirror and found Edward's eye boring into mine. I felt my skin tingle and my face flush, but I didn't look away until he did. I found myself wondering why it was that he had no problem breaking the eye contact. I suppose he wasn't affected the same way I was. With this notion came a sense of disappointment, and my shoulders sagged a little.

"What's up, Bella? Need to cuddle?" Emmett smiled down on me and I gave him a half smile. He leaned his head down close to mine and whispered so that no one else could hear, "Try not to let E get to you. He's my brother, but he's a dick sometimes. And he's had a rough time lately. We all have different was of dealing with shit. E's is to be total prick. He likes you. I can tell these things. So relax, B. And help Rosie pull the stick out her ass. I'm a nice guy. You know this. I know this. Make her know this. Please?"

I looked up at him and couldn't help but smile. He winked at me and shoved my shoulder gently. "Jesus, Goldilocks, watch the curves. Your friend's gettin' all fresh with me."

I rolled my eyes and relaxed in my seat, hoping for reasons even I didn't know that Emmett was right about Edward.

**Until next time…**


End file.
